


What's the worst that could happen?

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [28]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fake/Pretend Relationship, HYDRA Husbands, Light Angst, M/M, Meet the Family, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Because he has nothing better to do and no relatives to go see, Brock accepts an invitation to tag along with his fuck buddy to visit their family over the Christmas holidays.  He doesn't anticipate meeting the guy's brother, Jack.





	1. Jack and the word baby don't go together in this case.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays to all my HH buddies and especially to Meg, who was the reason this even came into fruition, albeit as a joke in chat that made her yell and scream a lot. It's been tweaked since then but the idea is the same. ;) <3
> 
> I'll try to get part 2 up before New Years but I'm on vacation atm so it may be delayed. Rating also might change, haven't decided.

Staring out the window, Brock looked along at all the endless farmland and treetops with a lack of anything else, really realizing he may have agreed to something he wasn’t at all prepared for. Glancing at the sky a few minutes as it sat clear and blue despite the snow on the ground he knew it was telling him not to get too comfortable with that while he reminded himself once again that being shut in alone for five days during the holidays and eating canned soup was not normal for a man in his mid-twenties, it was just that he wasn’t sure meeting the family of someone he barely knew worked well either. Whichever he chose, he was still losing in some way.

Fuck his life.

He adjusted his black toque over his head and fiddled with the radio knob for the hundredth time during the hour drive and got a sharp smack on the back of his hand for it.

“We’re almost there, quit playing with that.”

Instead of listening, he changed the dial much to the exasperated noise the driver made but chose not to say anything and quickly Brock found something of interest among too many talk radio channels and sermons about God.

It takes them another 20 or so minutes to turn onto a soft gravel patched driveway and slowly approach a large newly renovated beige farmhouse that had a charming wrap around deck. Despite looking homely, Brock’s gut was telling him how much of a mistake he was making.

He turned his head to Chris undoing his seat belt and preparing to get out of the car, barely giving him a chance to take a second. They’ve only been on and off for about two months if fucking most of the time would be called being sort of together and he still doesn’t know why he agreed to meet the family for Christmas in the first place. There was something in the way Chris looked at him that made Brock cave and think that hey, maybe this could be something a little more than a fuck buddy but then on the other hand he didn’t want to be more than fuck buddies with this guy. Again, it wasn’t like he was doing anything besides spending it alone at his own place so he figured why the fuck not?

The last bit of the doorbell tune lingers in the air and Brock is already worried about this family, straggling a step behind Chris as he finally stands beside him and the door opens at the same moment. He finds himself face to face with a girl that looks to be only a couple years older than him with a dazzling smile and a strong semblance to the man beside him, just smaller in every way but with the same brown hair and hazel eyes. 

“Chris! Finally, you’re here!” 

She proceeds to practically bear hug the life out of him despite the guy being built like a quarterback and hitting 6’1” while Brock smiles painfully with his carry on and overnight bag, the both of them forgetting he exists for a few long seconds before she turned and extends her hand, “I’m Sam, you must be Brock.”

“The last time I checked.” 

She doesn’t laugh and despite making Chris laugh the first time he says it to him, he doesn’t this time but Sam does grin wider and shake his hand before offering to take one bag. 

“Thank ya.” 

She nods and heads off inside the house with it, Chris turning his way with a concerned look across his face, “Maybe cut back a little on the dry wit, my family is kind of..”

“Humorless? C’mon, ya laughed at that line so bad ya almost choked on your beer.”

He definitely wasn’t amused this time around, “Yeah because I was drunk. Just, tone it down a little. Alright?”

Before Brock can make a quip back, a short, plump woman peeks around the door in mild concern but her expression immediately changes when she sees Chris. “Samantha! You just left them out in the cold? Letting all the hot air out too!”

She rushes them in to close the door, her smile so blindingly wide it makes Brock squint a little while watching her cup Chris’ face and then hug him tightly as she presses her face against his chest and sounds like she may be crying. It’s one of the few times he’s seen Chris actually soften his face to a tender expression as he presses a kiss against her hair.

“I missed you too, mom. It’s good to see you.” 

He turns to Brock, sliding his arm around his mother’s shoulders, “Brock, this is my mother, Tracy. Mom, this is who I mentioned I was bringing with me, Brock, my um..my boyfriend.”

The few seconds of hesitation made something inside of Brock jump awkwardly. They didn’t really discuss boyfriend pleasantries, even on the ride over but he only smiled and held his hand out, “Ma’am.” 

“Don’t even start on me with that, Tracy is fine.”

Tracy does take his hand but instead of shaking it, she pulls him in for a warm and tender hug. It makes Brock feel a little awkward considering he suddenly decided he didn’t want to lie to this woman though since a lot of what he does with Chris is really not for her to know he lets it all slide for now. Slowly he manages to hug her back and lets himself relax to it, her hand rubbing his back and it’s nice, the small pocket of tension draining away for the time being.

When they finally pull back, she gently guides the both of them towards the stairs, “Chris can show you where his room is and you can both freshen up before dinner but there’s rules, no fooling around you two.”

Brock could feel his face reddening all the way to his ears and at least he’s not the only one, Tracy only smirking like she was pleased at the reaction before shooing them towards the second floor, “Dad and Jack have gone to the store for some last minute things I forgot so they should be home soon, don’t take too long to come back down here.”

They both mutter yeses before taking the stairs up and Brock feels tense again, still trying to figure out why he agreed to show up on top of having to meet two more family members with probably no ounce of humor in their bodies either. Someone wanted him to suffer over the holidays.

He makes quick work of moving his carry on and bag across the room, placing both in a corner beside a small study desk and Chris sits on his creaky bed that definitely looks like it’s from the 90’s or later. There were old posters on the walls aging from time and various trophies on the shelf with framed pictures and mementos Brock doesn’t ask about. Actually nothing is said about the room, Chris checking texts like he usually did when he showed up for a booty call or if they were at his place back in New York. It’s not that he really wants to talk about how they’re supposed to act in front of everyone anyway because he’s not in the mood, picking up his toiletry bag to put into the bathroom.

They make it downstairs to Tracy beckoning them into a large remodeled kitchen, everything sleek and pristine, hot chocolates waiting for them with mini marshmallows and a stick of peppermint in each as she presses her hands together happily. It became clear to Brock that she really cherished stuff like that and he was happy to play the part of content boyfriend for a few days on that alone as long as he didn’t have to prove it in any way. He approached the mug closest to him and lifted it up towards her before taking a tentative sip.

Rich and warm, it was oddly soothing, like a distant memory of happier times despite the fact that Brock had no family. He grew up in an orphanage and there were moments he liked thinking back but they were few and far between. Despite that, it was nice, making a small noise of approval and nodding over the beverage, “This is _really_ delicious.” 

“Oh good, I’m glad you like it! Chris didn’t really tell me anything about what you liked and what you didn’t or if you were allergic to anything so I was a little worried. I guess he was so busy keeping you a big secret, he sprung the news so late, I hope your family was okay with everything.”

Chris only put all his attention on his own mug, seating himself down at the head of the large dining table trying to avert his eyes from them.

“Ain’t got no family,” He shook his head before she could apologize, “And it’s fine Mrs.- ” He pauses when she gives him a stern look, “I mean Tracy, been the same since I was a small kid. Ain’t no skin off my nose.”

From the hallway, there was a sound of the front door opening and wherever Sam had gone to, her voice was suddenly blending in with male voices. It was the only cue his apparent boyfriend needed, drinking down the cup of hot chocolate as quickly as he could without scalding himself and muttering something about the bathroom. It was pretty obvious where he was really going but neither of them said a word. Instead Tracy smiles and then turns his way, “Looks like the boys are back, let’s get you introduced to the rest of my brood.”

Taking one last sip, Brock nods in agreement and follows her the way Chris goes. They find him hugging a man with greying dark hair that is blocking a second person behind him and Tracy gently breaks the embrace apart to include Brock into the fray.

“Oh, right. Dad this is Brock. Brock this is my dad, Randy.” Chris informs before grabbing the arm of the last person he needs to introduce and yanks him forward, “And this loser is my baby brother, Jack.”

"Baby brother" is the last thing Chris should use to identify Jack. He only looks a couple years younger and he’s fucking tall, an inch or three than his sibling, built solid even though his frame looks a little lanky. It’s pretty hard to really think about considering how tight his thin black sweater is under his open winter coat and the blue jeans he’s wearing. He’s got soft forest green eyes like his dad, a faded scar threaded into his stubble and that’s about the time Brock plasters a smile across his face and shifts gears, putting a hand out for either of the men to shake.

“Nice to meet ya both.”

Jack catches his gaze and gives him a warm albeit small smile, moving in to take his hand but is ultimately cut out when the patriarch of the house grabs Brock’s hand so firmly it throws him a little off.

“Brock, good to meet you! Italian, are you? Well if my too-busy-to-call son had let us know sooner that we would be having another mouth to feed, Tracy here would have whipped up something nice for you. Isn’t that right, Honey?”

There’s an awkward stall in the air before Tracy nods and playfully hits her husband while Brock feels kind of annoyed by him. “Sure am, was a last minute notice for me too, so you ain’t the only one.” 

Smiling pleasantly, Tracy comfortingly wrapped her arm around Brock’s leading the group towards the dining table, “Well we’re all here now together so take a seat and get comfortable, it’s time to eat.” 

They all filed around the table and it wasn’t long before before Randy started up again.

“So, Christopher wasn’t clear. How long have you two been dating?”

“Oh Randy, they _just_ drove in. Enough of the third degree!”

“Two months, give or take.” Chris injects as he drops down into one of the chairs.

“Two months and already bringing him to meet your family, moving quick there boy.”

Brock chokes back a laugh, masking it with a cough over how ridiculous all this is. The longer he was here, the worse it looked and it was all he wanted to point out. He stayed quiet though, glancing up when Jack rose out of his seat to help his mother bring in some serving dishes to place out. Chris and Sam buried their noses in their phones and Brock was begging for Bucky to get back to him though he knew he too was on the road heading back home to visit family with Steve. He pushed his chair out to help get the ice water and the basket of rolls, Tracy giving him a long suffering look over his services but smiles gratefully right after. 

When they all get back to their seats, Jack gives him another one of his small smiles apparently as a thank you and Brock can’t help but smile back. He’s not one for tossing out a lot of smiles, he more likes to smirk and be smug about things but there’s something about Jack he likes even with the fact that he’s stupidly attractive and definitely Brock’s type.

Chris kicks at his foot under the table to get his attention back and show him some meme that’s got him amused. It’s actually really dumb and he should know, he’s an expert on all things meme, there’s only a few that won’t make him laugh like an idiot. He may have glanced back at Jack again from across the way to see if he was still looking over but he wasn’t by that point, talking to his sister as she explained something, his eyes alight with interest. 

It was weird to Brock how interesting he seemed considering he didn’t know shit-all about him. Not like he knew anything about this family aside from Chris complaining about his dad being a pain in his ass but Brock could already see that. Dishes began to get passed around and Brock forgot about worrying too much about how miserable he was here already, Christmas was in three days, he could survive until then but as soon as he got back to New York he considers it time to maybe be too busy for Chris to make stupid plans like this with him ever again. 

Conversation at the table was steered to mostly general topics, things Brock can answer neutrally because he saw pretty early on that if you start disagreeing with Randy, he’s going to make you want to pick up the steak knife to stab a motherfucker and Brock _definitely_ didn’t feel like dealing with jail in Farmtown, USA.

Tracy mostly keeps to herself, occasionally trying to calm down a heated debate. It’s Sam that seems to start most of the table arguments; politics, world news, activism, sometimes fashion. Chris talks about sports, mostly college football or football in general and Brock already has a mental block to drown him out, they did meet at a frat party, it was bound to happen. The guy looked good naked, that was all he gave a fuck about..that and having a drinking buddy.

Jack talks about art and literature at opportune moments and it pique’s Brock’s interest. He’s not really into reading and understanding the meanings behind paintings but the way Jack goes into depth about new works he’s seen locally or about trips he’s taken in the past when something’s brought up does something for Brock that makes him want to listen. Randy does some assholish eye roll thing but lets his son speak despite his own method of logging out by dropping his head to focus on his meal but everyone else shows some level of attention towards him and it’s then does he find out that he’s a writer as well as a part time college student. 

Oddly, he’s not surprised despite thinking Jack seemed like the type to be some sort of enforcer instead of some guy that sat around somewhere to create stories, but it really is the way he talks that gets to him. He wouldn’t mind listening to more insight from him which is probably how others see his stories. Unfortunately dinner quickly comes to a finish and they all head to the sitting room with coffee and dessert while Samantha is excited to play some homemade movies of a trip she took in the summer. 

Brock lasts only a few hours before Chris finally gets a hint that maybe it’s time for Brock to turn in. He’s actually surprised he has company but no one makes a fuss, all bidding them a goodnight and despite being tired, he knows Jack stares at him a little too long and it makes Brock feel good inside before he gets prodded in the side to move towards the stairs. Chris takes his arm and leads him up when his legs feel too lazy to move and the climb itself was too much, guided into the bedroom before the door closes behind them and Chris is pulling his own shirt off to change.

Brock manages to make it to the bed before collapsing but his eyes linger a bit too long on that body in front of him and once again he’s reminded of _why_ he keeps the guy around, crooking a finger and beckoning him over.

“Yer bed is fuckin’ old and creaky but I’m pretty sure the shower ain’t.”

Amusement crosses Chris’ face and he nods, “Sure isn’t. Thought you were tired though?”

Forcing himself back up on his feet, Brock gets out of his own shirt, “Maybe, but now ya got me distracted for somethin’ else.” 

“You’re lucky cheap lines work on me.”

“Nah, pretty sure yer jus that easy.”

Chris just smirks, not arguing what’s true either way.

They end up curling up in bed without their clothes on after a really good time in the shower and Brock’s entire body feels thoroughly fucked out. It’s the exact moment where Chris asks if he’s having a good time here and Brock hums a confirmation just to get the guy to stop talking and let him bask in the perfect serenity of his post orgasm. Thankfully nothing else is said and almost immediately he falls right asleep and becomes entirely dead to the world.

*****

He’s up early the next morning to snow falling outside their window and Chris passed the hell out with no chance of getting up, face pressed into his pillow and mouth open wide enough to attract flies. Even hot people can look terrible sometimes but the blanket is twisted up enough to unveil one perfect side of his ass and Brock soaks in the sight before pulling on some clothes and heading to the bathroom.

The house is eerily quiet as he makes his way through the hall and down the stairs but there’s some sort of low noise and maybe humming from towards the kitchen so he heads that way. He can smell coffee too so he has to go find out. 

Unfortunately no one is there when he enters, risen dough sitting in a bowl on the counter with plastic wrap over the top and coffee brewing away. The curtains are drawn open for the dining room leading out to a large backyard that backs into a thicket of trees that looks like it goes for miles. The snow makes it look hauntingly beautiful and it’s the first time Brock feels like he’s a little glad he came. It was moments like that he kind of wished he took up photography, but it’s random and fleeting like most of the ideas he has in his head, resting hands at the sill to peer out closer.

“Like the view?”

Brock definitely _does not_ startle to a masculine voice coming from the kitchen, assuming Tracy was getting a head start before family awoke. He turns around to see Jack standing there instead and despite the view outside, threadbare grey sweats and a tight white tank top does wonders for Chris’ “little brother”. Immediately Brock shuts that thought down because he has to quit it, flashing a smile and stuffing his hands into his sweatpants pockets as he approaches as casually as he can.

“Yeah. It’s a nice one.”

_Quit flirtin' with him._

Jack smiles, kind of fond in his expression and nods to him as he turns his attention to the dough, clearing counter space, “Same. I used to always stare out that window when I lived here. We grew up in this house, so I did it a lot in my childhood. Watched it change with the seasons.”

Brock doesn’t interrupt him, instead he sits down at one of the stools next to the counter so Jack can carry on and he can show that he’s listening. 

Pointing with a flour covered hand towards the coffee maker, Jack nods his way, cups next to it, “Help yourself. Milk and cream are in the fridge, sugar is in the dish next to the maker.”

“Thanks.”

“Every time I’m here, I end up being awake before everyone else so it became customary to do an overnight rise in the fridge for some bread dough and get it baked up in the morning. Dad likes the stronger flavor, so it works out. I start making some extra dough for rolls too since mom has way too many other things to do.”

“Yer dad seems to get his way a lot.” Brock lets out while pouring himself coffee.

Jack mused over the comment and nodded as he upended the mixing bowl he had beside him. Brock couldn’t help himself, watching him focus on the mound of dough while his muscles flexed every time he pressed knuckles into it, working and kneading in steady repetition. Jack’s hands as well as his forearms and the front of his tank top were quickly dusted with a fine layer of off colored flour, brows furrowed in concentration and it took an embarrassing amount of time for Brock to realize he was checking Chris’ brother out and not in a “just looking” way.

He averted his eyes to his coffee, trying to _not_ daydream about muscles and big hands. 

“He just expects things a certain way because of the military and we’ve all just let him. It’s easier.”

“Avoid a grump, huh?”

Chuckling in agreement, Jack nodded, “It’s just the way he is. Nicer when you don’t live here and it’s only in batches. Sometimes I feel sorry for mom but she doesn’t mind. She’s been doing it for almost 30 years.”

“What’s with the faces he makes when you and yer sister talk about things?”

Processing a moment, Jack smirked, “Best to either talk about topics he likes or just tolerate the looks of boredom. He thinks Sam wastes her time when she’s protesting for human rights or something environmental. Whatever I have to say is equally boring to him.”

There’s no way to miss the slight tone of self loathing Jack has in his voice and if it didn’t bother him before the way he was treated it sure bugged him now. “I’ve been hearin’ what you say and none of it ain’t borin’. Sure maybe I don’t know about fancy art shit or those book writers you mention but yer face lights up. You see it on your ma’s face that she sees it too and maybe she don’t know either but you like that kinda stuff. The least people can do is listen to ya.” 

The smile that appears across Jack’s face is tender, trying to block it with a hand rising in front of his mouth to act like he’s using the back of his wrist to get an itch against his nose. “I was supposed to be a bigger deal than I am, my brother got a football scholarship. My sister, despite dad looking bored, is really proud of her that she does everything with this passion and clearly you can see in his eyes that he admires her if you carefully watch him.” 

“What ‘bout you? Ain’t you published and all that? Yer doin’ what you want and successful, ain’t that what all parents want?” 

“I am somewhat, but I guess because I don’t have an arm like Chris or a voice like Sam, he just figured I would follow in his shoes. I’m not a fan of the military, I appreciate what they do but I’m not sure I could deal with that. I have an order with things my own way and I tend to like my peace and quiet. I’m more like mom than dad and sometimes that feels like it’s incorrect.” 

Brock purses his lips, “That’s bull.”

“Dad’s always been like that, you’ll get used to it.”

Oh, right because he’s in some sort of fucking relationship with Jack’s brother. He pressed a hand to his face, what’s he gotten himself into?

“You okay?” 

“What?” Brock let out, raising his head to see Jack stopped working on his dough and he shook his head, “Nah was jus thinkin’.”

Pursing his lips, Jack seems to want to say something but Brock’s glad he doesn’t, watching him go back to his kneading while he finishes off his first cup of the day and watches those arms work again before he clears his throat softly, pouring a little bit more coffee for himself. “So, how’s writin’? Workin’ on somethin’ now or takin’ a break? Does it come easy? I can’t write for the life of me, or read books either. Really hate it, I mean my head,” He absently gestures towards the top of his skull and Jack follows intently while still working, “I got no focus. Magazines yeah, but actual books make me wanna sleep..no offense or nothin’.”

Jack smiles kindly, small and diminutive but doesn’t remove any of himself out of the gesture. He’s really handsome when he seems relaxed like this and Brock can’t help but keep staring.

“I am working on something but also taking a break for the week, when I get back to New York I’ll be- ”

Brock paused him with a raise of his hand, “Wait, ya live in New York?”

“Yup,” Jack smirks, “Greenpoint. I’m guessing Chris never mentioned that.”

“No, he hadn’t. Why the hell would he ask me to come along like he was gonna travel alone? He ain’t ever mention havin’ family practically 20 minutes away.”

Shrugging to himself, Jack turned to get a little oil on his hands to grease up the sides of the bowl and set the batch of dough to rise in the corner of the room near the oven, “I left a day early to help mom with some prep stuff, have things ready to make the meals come together easier. That and despite how happy he was to introduce me, we’re just not much for really being siblings. He used to pick on me a lot when we were kids and sometimes we still get into arguments. We try to keep things civil for mom’s sake every Christmas though.”

The oven itself hits zero on the timer and goes off like an alarm, Jack tending to it and pulling out a large baking dish of gooey cinnamon buns, “No offense but, my brother’s kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah I know.” He mutters in agreement, sitting up a little straighter and startling when Jack looks back towards him in confusion. “I mean I know he is. Guess it’s why we get along.”

Turning back to the stove, Jack moves a pan to one of the elements, “You don’t seem like much of one, weren’t you just telling me I deserve to be heard?”

Now it’s Brock’s turn to smirk, “Ya haven’t really gotten time to know me yet that’s why.”

He only shrugs like he doesn’t believe him but lets him which Brock isn’t sure if he finds cute or not. Wait, he shouldn’t be thinking anything is cute, definitely not Jack.

Tracy comes into the kitchen in a dressing coat and slippers to say hello to the both of them and then check in on what Jack’s gotten around to doing for her while she stares up at him dotingly before tugging him sideways a little to kiss his cheek. Brock can definitely see who mom favors, chuckling silently into his mug.

“And what are you laughing about, huh? Don’t get too comfortable as a guest, you keep coming around here I’m going to have to put you to work too, mister!”

Setting his cup down and raising his hands in surrender, Brock stands up and grins, “My apologies. I’ll go see if Chris is awake.”

Smiling at him, Tracy nods in agreement, opening the fridge up to grab some eggs, “If you could, tell him to get his sister up for me. Thank you Brock.”

Escaping into the hallway, the amiable expression on his face immediately drops as he replays the comment about repeated visits like he was something _serious_ with Chris. He really likes Tracy and Jack but not enough to where he was ever coming back here even if it seemed to only be because Chris wanted to annoy his dad for some reason. The man didn’t seem to have any issues with them being “a couple” but for all he knew like Jack said, Chris was just being an asshole and sorta selfish. He knew him enough to get that he did that shit on a regular basis either way so he wasn’t surprised one bit.

After breakfast, Randy wrangles them all to help with shoveling snow and clearing some dead tree debris he’s been putting off now that the snow’s let up for a couple hours. Brock misses his guest status already and attempts not to break his back trying to carry more than he should so everything gets done faster. 

Despite all the grumbling he’s sharing with Chris and Samantha that they’re on vacation and this is unjust, Jack only shuts up and deals with it. If he’s pissed, he doesn’t show it, mostly stoic or contemplative but with an odd serenity mixed with it. Like he doesn’t _mind_ the work and Chris makes a comment to his sister about it when their sibling is out of earshot that Brock doesn’t catch entirely but definitely notes the whole tone of. It makes him want to say something but he doesn’t, Samantha punching her brother in the chest either way before jogging off to be in Jack’s company instead. 

When it’s all said and done, Brock’s shoulders feel a little tingly and it makes him feel better about not being able to work out properly while out here. Tracy encourages them to hurry and get washed up for lunch and he strolls into the dining room last to an amazing spread of roast beef with as many side dishes you could dream up. It’s enough to feed a small party but it’s only the six of them and Tracy immediately takes his arm and gently guides him to take a seat instead of just watching everyone else digging in. 

“I know, it looks like a lot of food but full bellies make happy people.” 

He chuckles and swallows down the choking feeling of nostalgia coming back from when he was a foster kid. It wasn’t always roses and nice experiences but Christmas was really a treat he always treasured. He parks himself down and the minute he does, a dish is passed his way and slowly the plate before him fills with various foods and two thick slices of juicy roast beef. He’s not sure his waistline will be able to make it if this is how Tracy always feeds everyone on a regular basis.

Across the table Jack gives him a smile and he’s not really sure why he feels stupidly warm over it. Running away from adolescent thoughts, he dives into his food to stop overanalyzing everything and instead focuses on lunch with a whole new level of attention.


	2. Two words; strawberry preserves.

After dinner, Brock’s pretty sure it’s a mix of exhaustion from working outside and the food coma that causes him to end up passing out on the couch with a car magazine in hand and a mystery blanket he was draped with at some point. The house was quiet, no one outside from what he could see out the large sitting room windows, light snow passing through and no one in the kitchen nearby or anyone within earshot. There had been fresh tracks from the truck outside, almost covered again but surely he hadn’t been left there alone all by himself. He headed upstairs to see if anyone else was taking a nap like he had been.

It was dead on the second level as well and he almost turned to go back downstairs when he caught slight movement from Jack’s bedroom, cool air drifting out from the ajar door. Lightly pushing it open, he saw him sitting outside the window in a coat and smoking a cigarette. 

He took a few seconds to decide entering his room but finally did, resting his arms at the window and peeking out with a smirk, “I didn’t know ya smoked.” 

Jack startled slightly, raising his brows and coughing softly, flicking ashes away. “Hey, you’re awake and I don’t. Not a lot at least.” 

“I figured. Where is everyone?” 

Exhaling after another drag, he turned out towards the road, “They’re at the Johnson’s farm picking up a goose for tomorrow night, that and Mrs. Johnson makes some mean pies and cheeses. Mom wanted to introduce you to them but you were passed out so she let you sleep off lunch.”

“And what about you? Decided to hang around and watch me sleepin’?” 

Brock didn’t realize what he was saying until it was out of his mouth, Jack giving him a humored expression.

“I saw them while I was in the city center with dad and Chris hadn’t so I volunteered.” 

Leaning out a bit further, he watched the snow slowly drifting down in thick flakes as the wind made a light noise through the lack of any other sound, turning back Jack’s way, “So what’s with you two? I mean you can tell me to fuck off but after ya pointed out that thing with livin’ in Greenpoint and Chris not mentionin’ it. I kinda started noticin’ what you were talkin’ about.” 

For a few seconds Jack only seemed to study him carefully, not in any ridicule way or to be rude but in an earnest consideration. He relaxed a little, the light breeze attempting to snuff out the last half of his cigarette, holding it out in offering. “Long story short, I was dating this girl and I thought we were serious or getting there but what did I know, we were in high school. Anyway, turned out she liked my older brother more than me and neither of them had the decency to let me know. When I confronted them about it, Chris only half ass apologized and expected me to just get over it..”

Brock accepted the cigarette as he listened, trying to ignore the weird drop in his stomach after finding out Jack was straight not that he was considering doing something with him. Not at all. He took a small drag, handing it back when Jack trailed off.

“As if my heart wasn’t broken up about it, he blamed it on me, said I was blind about it when I should have seen it coming because yeah that was definitely going to change the way I felt. Instead of putting himself in my shoes he just began to antagonize me, it kind of left me shell shocked, the way he was acting. My own brother. It soured our whole relationship since then, I mean we weren’t completely getting along anyway but that just cemented it and to top it off, they didn’t even date, they were purely just messing around and quickly got bored of it. He’s copped this attitude with me that when I get over it he’ll be around to talk when I’m just at a standpoint that he should have told me. It wasn’t like I was hiding my feelings, so I still feel resentful about it. I probably should get over it but it’s really difficult every time I see his face.” Pausing as he thought back, he snuffed out the smoke against a patch of snow, shaking his head sadly, “Sorry for that, though you asked. I would be careful probably, I mean he’s still my brother but he’s also a dick.” 

Brock only waved him off, “Nah, I did ask and ‘preciate the honesty, not sure if I could forgive my brother either if I had one. Siblin’s ain’t supposed to be people you haveta be wary of. They gotta watch your back, but that’s jus me.”

He didn’t add more to it, purposefully leaving out the topic of being warned and about Chris himself. A part of him wanted to reveal they were only friends with benefits and the rest was all fake, but a little childish piece of him also wondered why he should bother considering it wouldn’t have changed anything. Maybe before they left he would keep in contact with Jack somehow, Greenpoint wasn’t far and he seemed like a decent guy. God knew Brock needed more friends that weren’t drunk before noon on a Tuesday and there seemed to be just enough of something else where Jack seemed like he would get along with the friends he did feel lucky to have. 

They watched the truck approaching down the long stretch of road as it was coming towards the house and Brock tucked his collar up a little higher on his shirt, “I guess it’s time to see if they need any help.”

Adjusting his own coat, Jack turned his head and nodded silently, carefully maneuvering himself back inside and the both of them headed downstairs just as the vehicle pulled in and the engine was being turned off.

*****

A little while later after dinner and a little freshening up, Brock finds Randy, Samantha and Chris watching a football game but Jack and Tracy are nowhere to be found. He quietly wanders away and finds them together in the kitchen, Christmas music softly humming along in the background as Jack finishes crushing what he thinks are strawberries and Tracy places jars into a pot.

They work side by side and don’t even notice him there until the phone rings and Tracy turns around behind her to get to the cordless at the wall, letting out a small cry. “Brock! You scared me!”

He clears his throat, attempting to look apologetic, “Sorry, need any help with whatever you’re doin’?”

“Making preserves.” Jack informs, turning the heat on for a pot near him.

Tracy covers the mouthpiece as she beckons Brock over to her, “Can you be a sweetheart and assist Jack? My sister called earlier than I hoped and it’s long distance.”

Nodding immediately, Brock pushes his sleeves up and turns to Jack at the stove, “I’m all yers, just tell me what to do because I’ve never made jams or nothin’.”

“Well, these are preserves, a little different but I’ll teach you.” He added the strawberries into the pot, gesturing to the large wooden spoon sticking out, “Just keep stirring, count it as half your bicep work out.” 

Laughing, Brock nods as lemon juice is added and he carries on doing what he’s told, Tracy walking out as she speaks on the phone again. Jack takes the couple minutes to clear counter space and wash some dishes before he approaches again.

“Just keep stirring, you’re doing fine.” 

“Are ya sure? I don’t wanna ruin this stuff.” 

“Very sure.” Jack assures him but moves in from behind Brock to peer over his shoulder at the mixture anyway.

It was so close that Brock tries to school his sudden change of expression feeling Jack pressed warm against his back and he idiotically leans in to him just as needlessly. To his surprise Jack accepts supporting his weight against him, raising his hand up like he wanted to hold his arm but instead shifts it to aimlessly adjust the pot handle so the whole thing was balanced properly against the stove element.

Brock’s eyes momentarily flutter closed as he lets himself linger over the way Jack feels against him. He knows it could be seen as something innocent and tries to keep that in his mind but there’s something perfectly wonderful feeling the solid line of muscle and heat pressed in that makes me feel comforted and content. It’s scary because he’s never picked up something like this with someone and out of anyone he shouldn’t be feeling a connection like this with _Jack_. He barely knows him but he’s interested in him way too much, he knows that, swallowing thickly at the realization of it. 

Jack doesn’t bother moving as he watches, reaching for the sugar sitting on the counter and their arms rub against each other and they lean closer to the stove just a tiny bit as he adds it, triggering Brock’s heart to jackrabbit unsure of if Jack can feel it and his face warms to the idea that he might.

“Sugar’s in, just keep stirring.” 

Jack’s voice is so close to his ear, low and precise. It rips through Brock unexpectingly all the way down to his toes and he feels like whining for more, forcing himself to swallow it down and keep on mixing the batch of strawberries.

“..Need to get it all dissolved.” 

Jack is talking about something, Brock’s not sure what because he’s still lost in some cloudy daze and not sure what’s going on with him. Eventually a hand slips over his, large and heavy, and Brock’s pliant to being shown how much faster he should stir the preserves, voice murmuring something that’s too close to his ear still and settling something in his belly. 

At some point he swears Jack turns his head to nose into his hair and he’s just not sure, feeling stupidly drunk and biting back an urge to ask him for more of _anything_. Jack himself smells like sweet things and baked bread, something like faint traces of pine laced into it with that lingering scent of cigarettes and it’s that moment he remembers Tracy could walk back into the kitchen at any moment and catch them definitely in some sort of embrace. He’s not sure what Jack looks like but he knows he feels debauched and he’s told his face is terrible at hiding his feelings.

“Good, it’s done. Ready for canning most of it.” Jack says and snaps him out of his head noting how deep and husky he now sounds and Brock wonders if his assumption that this guy is as straight as an arrow is actually accurate.

“Yeah. Yeah sure, okay then.” Brock automatically responds, feeling breathless. 

What the fuck just happened?

Jack pulls away from him and Brock hates it almost immediately, keeping his head ducked away while he tries to relax as he’s hesitating a glance to watch Jack fiddling at the canner, face flushed and hands looking fidgety. The jars are placed out and he’s instructed to ladle out equal portions into them before they’re wiped down and placed back into the canner. It’s all done in a weird silence aside from instructions that come out sounding awkward and it makes Brock feel a little better that maybe it wasn’t only him.

While they wait for the jars to boil away in the water, Jack sets aside one jar and Tracy comes back with a cheery smile across her face, “Are you two finished making the preserves?” A hand rests on his shoulder, “Thank you for stepping in for me, Brock.”

He forces his own smile, trying best to be nonchalant, “Ain’t no problem.” 

“This one’s for the morning, mom.” Jack informs as he points to a jar cooling away. “The rest’ll be done in about 5 minutes and I can put them in the pantry on that wood block we have to cool them before shelving.” 

Smiling softly, Tracy nods and reaches out to give his arm a gentle squeeze, “It’s always nice to have you around for the holidays Jackie, I always miss not getting to teach you how to make Gran’s recipes whenever I want anymore.” 

Brock leans against the counter trying his best not to be visible as Jack smiles, “Ma, there’s always Skype or one of those other apps on your phone. Any time you want to, I’m around. I’d just have to hit the store to get the ingredients, you know that.”

“I know, it’s just not the same.” 

Brock can’t help himself when he smirks to the way Tracy whines about her son not being there, it’s sweet and affectionate, something he wishes he had from time to time. Sneaking himself away, he heads back upstairs and wonders again how he thought spending time with someone else’s family was a great fucking idea.

*****

Chris finds him half an hour later in the bedroom browsing a website, “Get changed, we’re all going for drinks at the bar and to hang out with some old buddies.”

Glancing up from his phone, he watches as he just leaves without another word thinking it actually wasn’t a bad idea to get out of the house. Randy’s already asleep on the couch and Tracy’s at the door to send them on their way a few minutes later, all four of them bundled up in thick coats and outer wear.

“You all have a goodnight kids, just be careful walking back. Alright?”

They all nod and take a pretty nice walk across snow covered dirt roads under a blanket of brightly glowing stars, their breaths fogging up as they moved briskly into town. Samantha keeps the mood light between her siblings and even Brock finds himself laughing about a joke she tells him just as they make it to the pub doorway, scrambling inside for much needed warmth. 

The place is homely and cozy looking, a seating area to the side and a large bar in the center. A fireplace is keeping everything heated and it reminds Brock of those British pubs he sees in movies. It’s certainly not anything to write home about but it’s nice nonetheless, dart boards and pool tables at the other side of the broad building and packed with a lot of people he’s sure are out of towners visiting relatives. 

There was a loud shout of Chris’ name and a pair of guys stand up beside a booth holding mugs of beers as they gesture for them all to join. Brock’s been trying to gauge Jack ever since the preserves but he hasn’t looked his way since. He’s not sure if he did something wrong or if he was just feeling out of his comfort zone so he dropped it for the time being, following along as he was introduced and forced himself to flash a smile as he shook hands with some apparent old high school friends.

Beers begin to arrive and Samantha wanders off when she sees someone she knows at the bar, both Brock and Jack sitting side by side and following their gaze after her until she stops at a pretty blond and a guy with tattoo sleeves on each arm. They both brighten in surprise to see her and greet her with open arms, definitely losing her for the next few hours.

“I haven’t seen those two for a few years, nice to see them still around.” Jack comments casually, his fingers drawing through the condensation gathered against the glass.

Brock glanced his way and gave him a nod before picking up his own glass of beer. He supposed it was, finally glad Jack wasn’t ignoring him anymore though two seconds later they were left at the table alone when Chris and his friend Daniel challenged each other to a game of darts right after they got a few shots in and Brock was immediately left very aware of Jack’s arm almost resting against his. 

“You can go join them if you want. I’m good here.” 

“And leave ya here alone? Whadda ya take me for?”

Without even looking he could see the surprised look Jack is giving him and he only gives him a smug expression back, something in Jack’s eyes softening as they order another pair of beers and Brock kind of feels perfectly alright just being here like this with Jack next to him. 

Turning his head Jack eyes him carefully, “So, I’m still looking for that asshole you warned me about.”

Brock smirked, leaning in against the plush leather of the booth, “Ain’t really given me a reason to be an asshole to ya or be comfortable enough to insult ya without you takin’ it personally.” 

Nodding to him as he took a drink from his new glass, he put it down in contemplation, “So what you’re telling me is that I’m somewhere in the middle of it. You like me enough but our friendship needs to be stronger for you to be a dick to me.” 

“Somethin’ like that. Gettin’ there.”

“Your candor doesn’t know bounds though.” 

“Nah, try to be honest with shit so people don’t get the wrong idea with me. You know?”

Jack nods along and drinks down his beer a little too quickly but Brock doesn’t point it out, instead he addresses the newly emptied pool table and looks back to him, “Wanna go play?”

“I have to warn you, I’m pretty good.”

Brock’s climbing out of his spot immediately, “Well tonight fella, yer gonna get your ass handed to ya. I ain’t even gonna go easy now, thanks for tellin’ me that.”

Chuckling, Jack nudges his arm when he slips out of the booth, “Go rack up, I’m gonna get another drink. You want a back up?”

He turned to talk over his shoulder, “Yeah and bring over some shots too while yer at it.” 

Racking up the stray balls, Brock chooses a cue and lingers around the table waiting. His eyes roamed across to the dart boards, a small group accumulating around Chris and his friend as they played and it was like he didn’t even exist. He glanced away knowing it was a farce what they were doing, mainly before the eyes of his parents but it was still something digging at him that if he was going to bullshit to his family he should have at least asked if he wanted to join them instead of being stuck with Jack. Not that _that_ was an issue, he just..

He didn’t know what to think, leaning forward to take a few shots to warm up and get used to the table. A few minutes went by and Jack still hadn’t come back, mild annoyance venturing in as he looked towards the bar for him and found him still there, heatedly saying something to a girl before moving to leave despite her obvious best efforts to keep him there to talk. 

Brock’s mild concern is immediate, the reaction more instinct than anything else as he tried his best to covertly watch while playing. Jack suddenly leans in and says something that stops the girl in her tracks before he turns and stalks away. Their eyes meet as Brock straightens himself up and Jack makes his way to the pool table with quicker strides and their drinks.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” He says despite not looking like it was entirely true, “Fine, just as long as she doesn’t come over here.”

“Who was she?” Brock take a brief scan of the place but the girl is nowhere in sight for now, “Looks like she ain’t tryin’ anythin’ too hard at the moment.”

Picking out a cue stick, Jack frowned at it before he turned back to the table, “My ex, the one I was talking about. She was trying to be all nice for some reason and whatever reason it is, I don’t want a part of it. You can go ahead and break.”

Pursing his lips, Brock wanted to say something but chose against it, he hit back one of the shots of whiskey that sat resting on a small serving tray that Jack had brought back instead before positioning to break the set.

It takes only three torturous hours for Brock to finally admit he does actually suck badly against Jack as he watches him sink the black ball into a corner pocket and end the game like he’s been doing all this time. He lets out a heavy sigh while giving Jack a shake of his head while returning the cue stick back to the wall.

“Yeah okay, _fine_. You can fuckin’ play, you beat my ass and I admit it, yer damn good. I’m glad I wasn’t stupid enough to throw down cash on the table but I think I’m done. My ego can’t deal with another loss, that and I think I’m too fuckin’ drunk to carry on.” 

A soft smile tugs at Jack’s lips and he nods, finishing off the last of his beer, “Sure, I’ll grab our coats and we can walk back.” 

Brock nods as he looks around for everyone else, the edges of his sight a little foggy. Sam is still at the bar with her old friends while Chris has migrated to dancing.. _with Jack’s ex_. He coudn’t care less about what the guy did, his mind fuzzy and tired. He just wanted to start heading back home but he suddenly wondered if Jack saw.

As carefully as he could he made his way over and around idiots trying to dance while barely standing up, eventually reaching his ‘boyfriend’ and tapping his shoulder, “Gonna head back.”

Chris doesn’t stop but instead snakes an arm around his shoulders while the ex looks him over like she’s trying to assess him, he doesn’t like it but bites back a word or two, not interested in starting shit. It was bad enough being shaken from the side, Chris pressing his face in against his neck, drunker than a skunk already and Brock resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“We’re goin’, alright?” He reminds him again, closer to his ear to make sure he heard it this time over the weird shitty country techno bullshit that was playing.

Nodding to him, Chris finally gets that he’s leaving and lets go, “Sorry I left you all night with Jack!” 

Shrugging, Brock shakes his head and pats his back before he breaks away from the cloud of boozy fumes between him and the ex-girlfriend. She takes Chris back towards her and keeps his hands held with hers evidently trying to get a rise out of Brock but he couldn’t give two shits if she was attempting to be some sort of homewrecker again giving her a wry once over before he was turning around to see Jack watching them from the bar while drinking down some water. He’s not sure if he looks a little worried or if he’s overthinking the man’s expression, forcing his legs to work as he approaches him with a casual smile as he takes his coat from him. 

“Let’s get the hell outta here.” 

Jack rests a hand on his shoulder to stable him, “You alright? I mean with- ”

Waving off his next words, Brock slips his arms through the jacket sleeves with a tiny bit of effort before heading for the exit, “Jus wanna sleep..” 

Outside, Jack is quiet beside him, reaching over to fix the buttons on Brock’s coat and pulling out the ski hat he had forgotten he even had stashed from one of the pockets, forcing him to wear it.

“The temperature is real low, keep yourself bundled.” He explains in a soft murmur.

Brock manages pulling his gloves on and Jack’s real close, his head a little disoriented but he can’t help tug at the coat before him, his head falling forward and into the man’s shoulder. He doesn’t feel like moving, there’s a low rumble against his chest telling him that Jack is laughing.

“Fuck off, m’drunk.”

A hand rests at the back of his neck, hot and gentle, palm soothingly stroking his skin and it doesn’t encourage him to move from his place.

“Come on Brock, lets get a move on or we’re gonna freeze our asses off.” 

Grumbling as he forces himself to straighten up again, he’s not sure how Jack gets away mostly scot-free. He knows he drank just as much, if not more than him and he looks like he could drive just fine if he wanted to. Together, they begin the trek back, Brock taking a moment to blink out the blurriness and soak in the beauty of it all. Usually he’s not really into shit like this but it’s weird he likes it with the company he keeps at the moment, icy roads glittering under starlight and a partial moon in the black-blue sky. He blinks at it before he feels Jack’s arm brush against his as they walk and he turns to look his way only to catch him watching.

“Suppose to snow all day in a few hours, well into the night. Think it’ll look nice, I want to get a few pictures before I head back.” Jack lets out conversationally, like he wasn’t just doing what he was doing. 

Squinting his way, Brock feels like he just missed something but he can’t fucking figure out what it is, and trying hard to process everything is giving him a headache. He nods and makes a noise in affirmation because his mouth feels a bit too dry all of a sudden to talk back to him. Instead he stares up at the sky again as they walk, the occasional brush of Jack’s arm against his coat reassures him he was going the right way. 

They go that way in silence for a while and it’s good until he turns to step aside from a slushy mess of mud and puddle before he’s slipping on some black ice. It only takes the grace of God and Jack’s quick reflexes to keep him upright, a solid arm wrapped around his waist that tightens when he trips on his feet and almost falls a second time.

“Easy there.”

Brock can’t help grabbing firmly to Jack’s shoulder and when he holds him he instinctively leans in further. Jack smells good from this close and Brock hates that he does, though currently the ground is a bigger enemy than he’s ready for in his intoxicated state. He relents to it by keeping his arm braced, Jack coaxing him to bring it around his frame and Brock sighs to himself, the smell of pine and bread hanging around him.

If he takes another deep inhale no one’s the wiser, “Thanks.”

Jack gives him a casual smile and he can’t help melt a little. They don’t talk about walking together the rest of the way with arms around each other and they only let go when they’re inside and warm again. 

“You should show me yer pictures.”

He’s not sure what kind of look Jack gives him but he nods anyway, the both of them getting out of their coats and boots before Brock lets himself follow after Jack, his voice softer in the dimly lit hallway and only returns to normal once his bedroom door is closed once they’re inside. While Jack rifles through a shelf, Brock sits down against the bed and nods along to _whatever_ he was saying, hand petting at the bedspread with a fond gaze at it.

“You got nice beddin’.” He hears himself say before he promptly falls back against it and blacks out completely.

*****

Before Brock even opens his eyes, he can feel it, the dull throb of a hangover and the shock of sunlight trying to ruin his life on top of it but it all shifts to the side of his list of priorities when that sensation of foreboding kicks in. His entire body feels stiff and as he opens his eyes, panic takes over just as quickly when he realizes he was in Jack’s bedroom all night.

It takes a few seconds to sink in that the water is running in the connecting bathroom, swallowing thickly as he sat himself up carefully, staring at the door just as Jack opened it up and froze in the doorway.

“Morning.” 

Brock pressed his lips together, eyes narrowing slightly. It wasn’t the first time he woke up in a strange bed after drinking a little too much, but it was the first time he woke up in the bed of a sibling he was apparently dating.

“Uh, mornin’.” He let out slowly, carefully eyeing the man, “Did we..ya know, do anythin’ I should probably leave for?” 

Jack’s brows shot up in surprise, putting aside the hand towel he had been using, “Us? No, we didn’t do anything. I slept on the floor.” 

He points it out at the far end of the bed, grabbing his pillow off a nest of blankets. “You wanted to see my photographs but when I turned around you had passed out on my bed. All I did was move you around the best I could so you were under the covers and then I made out a bed on the floor. That was it.” 

Brock took another look before he nodded slowly, his head pounding as he pulled himself up to his feet, struggling towards the door and peeking out before making his way to Chris’ bedroom to change only to find the bed still made from yesterday. He shook his head not knowing what the hell that meant, only searching for some pills and a fresh pair of clothes before heading into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

*****

It wasn’t until lunch that Chris showed back up while the family was eating lunch and Brock had spent most of the morning wishing he wasn’t awake but not minding the menial tasks of peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables for Tracy while Jack talked further in depth about his work and what he sought out when he traveled. Tracy seemed thrilled to listen and despite how sour he was feeling, Brock didn’t mind either.

Not surprisingly, Chris looks worse for wear in last night’s clothes, giving them an absent wave before he takes off upstairs to probably get changed. He had called saying he would be in later and that was the end of it, Brock could feel everyone getting the same ideas and he really isn’t in the mood to take in their expressions his way, head not depriving him of rest especially on Christmas Eve of all days and he instead focuses on his meal, force feeding himself.

It’s only a few minutes before Chris gallops down the stairs and takes a seat next to his sister, helping himself to the food laid out and the entire table keeps an awkward silence about them, the sound of cutlery and soft noises filling it.

Jack’s jaw clenches and Brock glances at the way he’s drilling holes into his brother’s head with his eyes while he’s tapping his fingers in expectation while Chris is off in his own world like nothing was going on.

It barely takes even five minutes before Jack loses his chill.

“So, you’re just going to sit there and not explain why you didn’t come home last night?” 

Pressing his lips together, Brock turns his head to the side, his foot hitting Jack’s beneath the table, “Forget about it.” 

Not taking his eyes off his sibling, he could tell his warning went to hell and Chris only makes it worse by ignoring Jack and scoffing about the confrontation. The rest of the table hang back and try not to get involved, even Randy ignores it.

“Right, it’s Christmas. Why not ignore that you brought your boyfriend over but obviously slept somewhere else last night when you could have easily walked home. Sam did.” Jack ground out, “Some things never change.” 

Frowning, Chris finally glared up at him, “Are you kidding? This coming from the guy who’s been making eyes at Brock the second he showed up here. What’re you planning to do? Play nice and hopefully get him interested in you so you can steal him away like you think I did with Amanda?” 

Randy pursed his lips, “Boys.” 

Brock watched the two of them, surprised at the sheer animosity they had been holding back, Jack stunned at the obvious affect of the remark while Tracy rests her fork down and gives Chris’ hand a small pat, “Now you two, play nice.” 

“I’m trying to be nice, but he’s constantly the one being the victim.” Chris points out.

Sam raised her head, Brock meeting eyes with her and he can see there’s something there she’s battling with before she turns to look Tracy’s way, “I saw Chris making out with Amanda later by the restrooms last night after Jack and Brock left.” She turned to her brothers, then at Brock, “I’m sorry, I just. I didn’t wanna start a mess so I tried to keep out of it.” 

“Like I said, things never change.” Jack remarked, leaning back against his chair evidently finished with his food when he pushed his plate away a few inches.

“Oh grow up, Jack. This isn’t high school, we’re adults now. Shit happens, just move on. What Brock and I do is our business, maybe he’s okay with stuff I do, I bet you didn’t ask him about that stuff and just told him how choked up you were about me stealing your girlfriend. Your sob story is getting pathetic.” 

Okay, Brock wasn’t entirely aware of what he signed up for but this wasn’t it. He was pretty good at making his own mess, he wasn’t adding breaking up families to his resume and Tracy looking seconds from breaking down on some level was something he definitely didn’t want to be a witness to. He dropped his fork with a clang, pulling himself out of his chair and raising his hands up in surrender as eyes turned his way. 

“Alright, this crap’s been goin’ on for too long I’m thinkin’ and I ain’t ready for some beat down between you two while your ma’s here seconds from gettin’ real upset. She’s been swell to me and I jus, this shit’s gettin’ way too much.” He drew in a long breath before continuing, eyeing Chris a moment, “All this is fake. We ain’t datin’, we’re jus foolin’ around whenever we want, nothin’ serious.” 

There’s no gasp or shocked noises and Brock let’s himself relax, gesturing to Randy and Chris, “You two need to get your shit together because I’m pretty sure the only reason I ended up here was fer some sort of petty shit to annoy you. And Chris, Jack’s only been kind to me. He’s decent and a damn gentleman. It was different spendin’ time with him because he saw things in other ways than what I did. Maybe you hate him havin’ a grudge but his brother ain’t supposed to jus take the person he really cared for _and_ she’s still got her claws in one of you. Time to kick that one to the curb if all she’s doin’ is makin’ a mess between the both of you. No offense.” 

They’re still staring at him with unreadable expressions, except Tracy and he turns to look at her with a smile, “It was a pleasure to be around you, though I’m sorry for lyin’ about things. I wanna say though, if I had a ma, I’d have liked to think maybe she was a little like you, so thanks for that. I think though with all this comin’ out, it’s time to take my ass outta here and get back to New York.” 

He hears his name being called by more than one person but he’s ignoring everyone and Tracy’s voice comes up before everyone goes quiet and Brock shuts himself up in the bedroom. It’s only then does he realize there’s no damn way he’s going to be able to get outta there without someone picking him up because the place probably didn’t have any sort of bus service back to New York on Christmas Eve. 

Thoughts formed and calculated in his head as he threw his things together, getting on the phone with an agent of a few businesses to see if they did anything like pick ups before going back into the city, but then he also wasn’t made of money and that would have been a pricey fare. There was no way he was going to go back out there, dropping back on the bed face first and a frustrated sigh knowing that if he didn’t get out today, there was no fucking way he would get out tomorrow. 

All things considered, Brock should have been used to embarrassing himself, just this time he couldn’t stand the idea of facing these people again despite the issues they have between themselves. Closing his eyes, he buried his face against his folded arms and eventually fell asleep, ready to kick Chris out of his own damn room if he showed up. The asshole not being able to even keep it in his pants when it was _his_ idea to do this in the first place was enough ammo to get him to stay out. Jackass.

*****

It’s dark when he wakes up, still in the same position he started at and groggily trying to come to when a knock hits the door again, realizing it was probably what woke him up in the first place. He grunted in lieu of speaking, dropping his head back against his arms in hopes of falling asleep again before the person had a chance to step in.

He heard the door open, footsteps soft underfoot before they stopped a few seconds the lamp going on by his head before they sat down against the edge of the bed. Brock lifted his head up warily, one eye cracked open to Tracy sitting there with a plate in her hand, the other reaching out to lightly pat his back. 

“You didn’t eat much before your big announcement, I thought I’d fix you a sandwich.”

Shaking his head in an attempt to knock the cobwebs out, he sat himself up taking the plate with a guilty expression, “Sorry bout all that crap. Said all that even before realizin’ I can’t even get my butt outta here.”

She smiled, watching as he resting the plate on his lap, “Don’t apologize, in the end you were just being honest when Jack and Chris were starting another fight with each other. I think ever since Jack was born, Chris has always wanted to steal back any spotlight he caught.” 

“Yeah, I noticed. I jus wanted out, couldn’t stand fakin’ somethin’ when he wasn’t even tryin’ anymore.” 

She gave his arm a comforting squeeze, “You’re welcome to stay in Chris’ room until Christmas is over and we can figure out a way to get you back without having to deal with either of them. I asked Chris to bunk down in the basement, Randy has a sort of man cave thing going on down there, he’ll be fine. He just has things to collect so if you feel up to it, freshen up and come join us for dinner in an hour. You don’t even have to say anything if you choose not to, but I’d feel better if you had a full meal in you. Alright?”

Brock smirked, nodding to her and picking up half the sandwich, “Alright. I’ll be there, and hey I can go sleep in the basement, it’s his room after all.” 

Tracy rose up, heading for the door, “No, he can stay there for causing this whole mess. He brought you here, put on an act of being boyfriends but couldn’t stop himself from Amanda. Now you’re stuck and I don’t want you staying in this room being upset about it.”

“Nah, ain’t upset. To tell ya the honest truth, I’ve been wantin’ to head back because I hated lyin’. I don’t mind Chris in small batches but spending days around him under the same roof was makin’ me stir crazy. I ain’t even mad about the ex. Maybe before I came out here I figured I should figure out if this is some serious stuff but it ain’t fer me, not with that guy. I know that now, but since I am stuck I’ll just stick out more than usual.” 

“And that’s fine so bring your butt downstairs, okay?”

Swallowing down what was in his mouth, he grinned, “Yes, ma’am.”

*****

He found dinner wasn’t as bad as he thought. No one tried focusing on him and even Randy kept to himself, Brock adding his opinion on things after a bit and soon he was blending into the company pretty quick.

After helping with clean up, he ended up walking outside with Jack to get the lights turned on, their stroll casual and slow, Jack looking contemplative as he walked along with him. 

“I wanted to say sorry.”

Brock felt himself frown, adjusting his ski hat as he stared off at the snow coming down in thicker flakes, “‘Bout?” 

He watched Jack reach down to connect the lights and check for any breaks, dusting his hands off as they continued walking and he offered a shrug of his shoulder, “For that mess at lunch. You weren’t bothered and I just got annoyed at him doing whatever he wanted without giving a shit.” 

He shrugged, “I appreciate it, someone bein’ in my corner but yeah, wasn’t surprised much about him spendin’ the night somewhere else. I jus figured he wouldn’t do somethin’ like that when it was his idea all along. Waste of invitin’ me out here.”

The snow crunched softly beneath their boots and Jack drew in breath, hands shoving into his coat pockets while staring out dead ahead, “I wouldn’t say it was entirely a waste.” 

Brock turns his way in wonder but Jack surprisingly stays stoic, eyes studying the tree line as they continue on and it makes Brock ponder if he was hearing things. Despite that, his ears pink whether he wants them to or not and he doesn’t say anything else either. All they do is keep walking side by side through the snow, shoulders occasionally bumping along into each other and if they lean in closer together because of it eventually, neither say a word about that either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I write an epilogue for this? I don't know. /shrug
> 
> And while this may look open ended, this is me we're talking to and they so got together and Brock didn't realize Jack had glasses that are hella distracting when he tries to write and ends up diverting his attention a lot more than him doing work with them on. Oops.


End file.
